


Bruises.

by TiaMalefica



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Basically how I want things to go, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Multi, Season 4 is everything, So much guilt, post-monster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-07 14:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaMalefica/pseuds/TiaMalefica
Summary: Eliot and the gang deal with his return.Plenty of reunions, plenty of tears. Lots of guilt.And love.Basically this is what I wanna see happen. Sort of.





	1. Breakfast in bed

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a short intro to my Post-Monster fanfic. Longer chapters to come. This is my first time posting here so be gentle ♥

Eliot opened his eyes. Looking around, he realised he was in the Physical Kids' cottage once more. His room to be exact.

He lifted his head off the pillow and let it fall back down in frustration.  
The same bed, the same room, the same surroundings over and over. He was so tired of it all.  
Sure, he could have hosted a tea party with his imaginary/dream friends again ,or a party in general, but everytime he would conjure them through his memories, the pain of missing the real thing would increase immensely.  
He had no concept of time in his head and that worried him. How long had he been in there, trapped in his own fucking body by a psycho monster? Were his friends trying to get him out? Were they even ok?

The never-ending, unanswered questions whirled around his mind as he thrust his head on his pillow once more. He was tired. Angry. And that freshly-brewed coffee smell was violating his senses.  
Great, now he had sensory hallucinations, too. This was just so great.

Suddenly, his door creaked open and a few seconds later a small head peeked from behind it. Alice. Okay, this was turning into a nightmare. Maybe a joke, he couldn't decide.  
Alice looked exactly as he remembered; blonde, petite, with disproportionately large breasts. She and her steaming cup of coffee let themselves in.

"Did I daydream you into existence somehow? Then again why the heck would I?" he scoffed.

She stood there for a few seconds processing his words. Ultimately, though, she didn't care enough to fully analyze them. "I knew I heard something. And I apologize for checking in on you, jackass, while everyone else is away."  
Sipping from her cup, she watched almost in amusement as Eliot started to realise he was neither in a dream nor a memory. He jolted up and then quickly fell back onto the bed, also realising for the first time that he was aching all over.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. The pain will go away eventually. You were almost fried to death from what I was told." She took another small sip. "Well, good talk. I'll go...get someone else."  
And with that she was gone.

"What the fuck is going on?" he said to himself. Pushing through the pain, he managed to prop himself up a bit, resting his back on the wooden bedframe. "Wow, that hurts. Wait, did she just say I was almost 'fried to death'?"

"Eliot!" His door flung open, with force enough to pull it off its hinges and a sparkly-eyed Margo jumped into the room. He could tell she had just barely stopped herself from literally body-slamming him right then and there.  
Instead, she calmly sat next to him on his ivory, silk sheets. She swiftly gave him a one-over and once she had apparently evaluated his condition, she wrapped her arms around him gently, not saying another word.

"Bambi...Am I really back?" he asked, frozen in place by disbelief.

She hugged him tighter than before and only let go as she felt him wince from pain. She took his face in her hands, her eyes dancing from left to right as she looked into his own.

“Fuck, I missed you, Eliot!” her voice an almost inaudible whisper. Her eyes, Eliot noticed, were filled to the brim with tears yet her cheeks were still dry.

He rested a shaking palm on her right cheek as he felt his own twitching. Both just stayed there, eyes locked and cheeks finally wet. He was really back. The monster was gone. And she was real. The thought lingered in his mind for a few more seconds but he was still unsure. Spending so much time inside your own mind, repeatedly living inside your memories does that to you. So, he gave her a small smile and then leaned in for a small peck on the lips. Pulling back, he knew. He knew that this girl in front of him was real. There was nothing romantic or erotic about the kiss, just the need -for both of them- to confirm that this was not a dream.

Filled with glee, she pulled him into her arms once more, his head now nested on her chest. “Honestly”, she finally spoke “when Q told me you were still alive there inside that body, I-I doubted him for so long…” She paused. She felt so guilty for even considering that he was dead back then. And she knew that a lifetime of her holding him in her arms wouldn’t make her feel any less guilty. “I am such a stupid cunt, El. I had given up on ever seeing you again. I’m so, so sorry. Instead of helping Q and Julia save you I was back in Fillory, having political debates with talking animals.”

Eliot could hear her heart beating faster by the second. He looked up and grabbed her by the shoulders. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, pain and shame weighing her head down. He shook her gently.

“Crap, what happened to you, Bambi? I thought Quentin was the self-loathing mascot around here,” he joked but immediately choked on his own words.

“Oh, fuck, Q. Is he okay? By the Gods is he okay?”

Margo’s eyes met his for a split moment before dropping down again. With a small sigh, she spoke again.

“Define ‘okay’."


	2. Comic Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin talks it out with Alice who wants to know what happened.

Alice Quinn made her way to Quentin’s room. Just like before, she turned the handle on his door and peeked through the opening. She almost dropped her coffee. Quentin was not there. She looked around the room again and again but there was no sign of him. 

Closing the door behind her in a hurry, she rushed down the stairs, coffee inevitably spilling everywhere. At some point she thought she passed a frazzled Penny but she didn’t have time for him. Finally reaching the living room she saw him: Quentin was sprawled on a couch, hair messy and still wearing his flannel pajamas. _He is okay _. A small wave of relief came over her but she was determined to let him have it. Sure, they hadn’t been on the best terms lately but at least they didn’t hate each other. That, and the fact that she had been his nurse for days felt like enough of a reason for her to do so.__

____

Approaching slowly from behind, she set her now empty mug on the coffee table in front of Quentin and turned to look at him. He knew she was there but refused to acknowledge her. He was simply laying there motionless, examining the ceiling above and consequently looking more like a corpse than when he was brought in after Eliot’s rescue.

__

“Quentin, you shouldn’t be down here! Go back up and rest,” she said, surprised by how soft her words turned out to be. 

__

No response.

__

“Quentin...are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

__

Again, silence.

__

“Come on, Q--”

__

The sound of his nickname almost jolted him up. Mentally. He really disliked being called that by her, but he swallowed it. He let a long sigh out. It was a mix of frustration, exhaustion and something else Alice couldn’t put her finger on just yet. Sitting up, he rested his palms on his knees and leaned forward.

__

“Eliot’s awake, too. Margo’s with him.”

__

Another mental jolt. Quentin, immediately tensed up, hunching forward even more. Oily strands of brown hair fell over his face but Alice could almost...feel the expression underneath and it wasn’t what she had expected: It was fear.

__

“Is-Is he okay?” a trembling voice said behind that oily mop of hair.

__

“Define ‘okay’.” Alice picked up her mug. With a swift swirl of her fingers it was full again. “Why ask me anyway? You can go see for yourself, Q.” She took a sip and frowned realizing there was no sugar in that coffee. Another swirl did the trick.

__

“No need. Where’s Julia?”

__

Again, not what Alice had expected. Man, was she confused by his behaviour. Had whatever hocus pocus they did with Julia fried his brain?

__

“Um, I think she’s with Hermes? He came by a while ago and took her somewhere. Didn’t seem like a big deal. Maybe the Olympians wanted to thank her. Or, Hermes has a crush on her and wanted to take her out on a God date. My money’s on the second option.”

__

That seemed to do it. Quentin raised his head and smiled thinly back at her. 

__

_Ah, _she thought, _It’s been a while since I’ve seen that. _____

_____ _

__

____

“I highly doubt the Olympians are gonna give us a medal or an olive wreath, you know.”

____

__

____

“Why not?” Alice asked still baffled at that tiny smile on Quentin’s face “You did just get rid of a monster they’ve feared for...millennia.”

____

__

____

“Yes, but we also kinda stole their powers to do that. And if their behaviour towards humans using magic in the past is any indication, I bet they are not thrilled,” he pointed out and then eyed a bottle of alcohol next to him. “But probably not pissed enough to punish us.”

____

__

____

He grabbed the neck of the bottle and read the label: Peach Margarita. Interesting.

____

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____

Alice didn’t stop him from getting a swig. She, too, sipped her own drink, err coffee, wondering why anyone would buy peach flavored tequila. Ugh.

____

__

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“About that, Quentin…” Alice set her mug back down and went to sit next to him. He didn’t seem to mind. “How exactly did you do it? Get the monster out of Eliot, I mean.”

____

__

____

Quentin stopped mid-swig and looked at her quizzically. “Please don’t tell me you’re mad we didn’t involve you.” 

____

__

____

“No, I mean, maybe but not because I wanted to play hero!” she shouted, wide-eyed. And she really meant it. Julia, Quentin and Alice had worked together for days, trying to come up with a plan. Ultimately, though, Julia and Quentin had decided to keep her in the dark. “I could have helped, Q. You know that!”  
“Alice--” He sounded annoyed.

____

__

____

“No, Quentin, seriously. I can’t believe you two thought going all Batman and Robin was better than me helping out as well.”

____

__

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“That, was a terrible analogy.”

____

__

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“Spare me, Coldwater. Just, tell me what happened.”

____

__

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He sighed again. “Look, to be frank, we took a gamble. A big one. And the cost was all our lives. But it had to be done and it worked.”

____

__

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“How did you even convince Julia to do that? What did you have her do?”

____

__

____

Now Quentin looked pissed. He whipped his head around to really face her. “What the hell do you even mean by that?” His voice was almost like an animal growl.

____

__

____

“You keep doing this, Quentin!. You come up with a crazy scheme, usually involving you sacrificing yourself one way or the other and then basically force your friends to do even crazier shit to keep you from dying! This time, instead of letting others help, you dragged Julia in that mess and forced her to deal with it.”

____

__

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“Don’t. You have no idea what you are talking about.”

____

__

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“Oh, is that right? Then how about Castle Blackspire, huh? You decided on your own that staying would be the best thing to do, thus forcing Eliot to shoot the monster to save your stupid ass. Which, let me remind you, got us all here in the first place. It’s why Eliot got possesed. And you keep doing it over and over again!”

____

__

____

Quentin was breaking. He wanted to deny it, tell her to fuck off ‘cause she was insane, but he couldn’t. Every single word she had just spoken was true. He was a terrible friend. A terrible person, really. She was so right. He shifted uncomfortably in place. He couldn’t shake the dark cloud of guilt off.

____

__

____

“Q, all I’m trying to say is, please, stop trying to be the hero every time something happens. Even Atlas couldn’t handle carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You can’t fix everything. And you really don’t have to.”

____

__

____

Alice rested her hand on his back almost automatically and once again, Quentin surprised her by not rejecting her touch. She knew there was nothing more to it but still...she hadn’t been so close to to him in so long. Just comforting him with a simple touch felt bizzare and familiar at the same time.

____

__

____

He stood up and looked thoughtfully out a window. He knew Alice wasn’t trying to make him feel like shit. He knew that and he understood what she was saying. Him being an idiot with self-destructive tendencies was an opinion shared by most of his friends. And it was, true. Trying to fix a mess he made that got Eliot possessed, he had put another one of his friends in harm’s way. He was the one that had gambled with their lives. With all three of their lives. And he hated himself for not realizing that sooner.

____

__

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“I just--I don’t know what else to do,” he whispered with his back still to her. “All of you are, you know, powerful, talented, strong-willed, determined. I’m none of those things. I-I’m just, me. The fumbling comic relief. The weirdo that slipped through the cracks, got into Brakebills and met all these incredible people he can’t keep up with.”

____

__

____

Hearing Quentin say those things left Alice stunned. Having a heart-to-heart with him was certainly unexpected but more importantly, the cracking in his voice was what led to that painful tug in her chest. He was in so much pain and she had no idea. How long had he felt that way? The hurt inside him was beyond insecurity. This was not the Quentin she knew and loved. Their relationship was long over and their friendship, well, debatable. How was she to convince him he was wrong? That he was so much more than what he gave himself credit for. She just didn’t know what to do. Yes, Alice Quinn didn’t know what to do. And it devastated her. 

____

__

____

Rising from the couch, she approached him. She felt her palms clenching up.

____

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“So what?” is all she could say.

____

__

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He turned towards her unwillingly. “What do you mean?”

____

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“So what if that if that’s true, huh? Even if you are the comic relief weirdo--and let me be clear I disagree with that statement--so what? Do you feel like compensating by sacrificing yourself over and over again? Don’t be stupid, Q. That doesn’t even make sense.” Her fists were now shaking and Quentin noticed.

____

__

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“Ali--”

____

__

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“No, seriously, hear me out!” she cut him off, putting a hand up in protest. “Friendship is not about grand gestures and jumping off a cliff just because someone told you to, okay? Trust me, I would know…”

____

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She let those last words trail off as Quentin regarded her. “So, uh, what I’m trying to say is...just don’t do that shit again. Ever. You hear me, Coldwater?”

____

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____

Now was Quentin’s turn to be stunned by words. He didn’t even recognize the two of them at that moment. They had been through so much together and had also come so far. Somehow, between the roller-coaster of love and hate they’ve been riding ever since they met, they had ended up here: Two people, broken and vulnerable, standing face to face and supporting each other in a warm and...peaceful way. Looking at her again he didn’t feel the love and passion he once did. No, but he felt happy, content. 

____

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He was overwhelmed, at a loss for words but he managed a slow nod.

____

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“Good. Now, I think I’ll go get some sleep. I need it.”

____

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She gave him a short wave and made her way up the stairs, leaving Quentin standing there, almost frozen. When he moved again, it was to sit back down and resume drinking that weird peach margarita drink he was still holding. He didn’t wanna go back upstairs. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t face Eliot just yet. Yes, they had saved him but Alice’s words still lingered in his mind. He did that. He was the one that had caused all that shit and more. And Eliot...he was the last person that deserved that. 

____

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“There you are!”

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A female voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Julia was standing in front of him, staring disapprovingly at the bottle of liquor in his hands.

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“How are you feeling, Q?” she asked, eyes full of concern.

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He smirked bitterly. “Peachy.”

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She tilted her head on one side and crossed her arms. “You sure?”

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“Totally.”

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Nope, she was definitely not buying that. Crap, she knew him so well. “But you know, there is something you could do for me.”

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“Okay, name it.”

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He did.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole chapter about Alice. My god, this was hard to write.  
> Queliot chapters coming up.  
> What did you think of this scene?


	3. Peaches and Plums

“They did what?!” Eliot asked incredulously. 

“Yeah, Julia and Q just sneaked behind our backs, stole some God powers and here we are,” Margo said while throwing her arms up for dramatic effect.

“Okay, babe, you need to do some serious backtracking.” Eliot couldn’t believe what he has hearing. Well, it wasn’t too out of reach for Quentin to pull some grand vigilante act to save him but still.

“Honey, I don’t know the details. Julia just, uh, brought you two here, both unconscious, and didn’t really have time to elaborate. The Olympian Gods called, they wanted their powers back.” 

“Are they--Is she in trouble?” he asked, instinctively trying to hide the fact that he was also worried about Quentin. Stupid.

Margo shook her head. “Unlikely, but who the fuck knows. Those 12 bastards are complete pricks.”

Eliot nodded. He knew of those Greek Gods. They were...not great.

“So, did she tell you anything else before she...was summoned?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t make much sense of it. Julia at some point discovered that she still had God powers. Problem was she couldn’t use them at first. But then she could. So, she pulled a tinkerbell, meaning tried to get followers to grow her powers. And she did. Oh, by the way, she is officially Fillory’s favorite Goddess.”

“To the point, babe.”

“Yeah, so anyway, suddenly she discovers that she can temporarily borrow or redirect magic. Even God magic,” Margo said, her words filled with awe.

“Shut. Up.” Eliot felt his jaw drop. “So she stole their magic?”

“Borrowed,” she corrected. “But yes, you get the point. Apparently, Julia, Q, and Alice had this plan to immobilize the monster as it exited your body to get to the new one but--”

“Hold on, did you just say Alice? She helped, too?” The story was getting more ridiculous by the minute. For a second there Eliot wondered if he were in an alternate universe. Plenty of them around those days.

“Yeah, I know tough to swallow. Look, I still don’t like the bitch but she saved Q plenty of times. And helped save you, too.” She shrugged and shook her head. Alice being around them so much was surreal for her, too.

“Hey.”

Penny stood at the door, waving towards them. “Good to have you back, man.”

“Oh, hey. Thanks.” Eliot said, still kinda focused on his talk with Margo.

“Sorry to interrupt but it’s time to go back, Margo.” Penny said, almost feeling bad to have to remind Margo of her time schedule.

“Fuck.”

“Fillory calling?” Eliot joked.

Margo looked up to him and planted a kiss on his forehead, a smile hiding the guilt in her face. “I am the High King. And I’ve already been gone for quite a while.”

Eliot frowned but he knew what she meant. A few minutes spent on earth translated to days back in Fillory. And as such, she had to go. The people needed their King. She rose from the bed and straightened her clothes with her hands.

“Now, you stay put. You need the rest. We’ll talk more when you get better.”

“I’ll be fine, Bambi. You go.”

She smiled, face completely beaming now. “Alright. Maybe I’ll send Fen over to keep you some company.”

Eliot smiled back at her. “I’ll be fine by myself, you know.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before, you know,” she almost scolded.

Penny took her hand as she came closer to him. “Ready to go?” 

“I wanted to check on Quentin before I left.” 

“No need. He’s probably gone.”

Two pairs of eyes darted towards Penny. He took a step back, almost expecting them to pounce.

“What do you mean by ‘gone’?!” Eliot cried, making a weird shrill of a sound in his throat. “D-Did something happen to him?”

Penny started shaking his hands vigorously in front of him “No, no, he’s fine. He’s awake. I thought he would have come by already.”

Both Eliot and Margo kept staring confused. Eliot let out a sigh of relief but still couldn’t understand. If what Penny said was true, why wouldn’t he come see him? He felt a little hurt. Okay, maybe a little more that ‘a little’ hurt.

“He told me,” Penny continued, “he was planning on heading back to Fillory.”

“To do what?”

..............................

“Gardening?!”

Back in Fillory, Quentin and Julia were traversing through some Fillorian forested area. Julia hadn’t been here in a while, Quentin even longer than that. Probably on purpose. The morning breeze rustled the trees, making everything around them sing. Fillory was welcoming them home, Quentin thought.

“Yep.” Quentin had asked Julia to keep him some company. He wanted to stay away for a while. And a trip to Fillory seemed ideal. 

“You wanted...to do some gardening. Here. In Fillory.” Julia was walking beside him the whole time, watching him admire the scenery.

“Yep,” he repeated. “I didn’t wanna stay in bed. Plus, with your help, gardening will be a breeze!”

Julia almost giggled. “Oh, so you brought me here to play ‘Our-Lady-of-the-Trees’ with you.”

“Jules, I’m not keeping you here. You can go back if you’d like.” 

Julia immediately sensed his tone change. It wasn’t cold per se, just different. She decided not to push for now but was definitely going to later.

“Q, it’s fine. I kinda missed Fillory actually.”

“Oh? You did?” Quentin asked surprised, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You know, sometimes, Fillory feels more like a home than Earth does.”

“I know the feeling,” is all Quentin said back, refusing to let his mind wander.

They spent about an hour talking about random things from funny childhood memories to Hermes who apparently had hit on her after all. Julia kept insisting that the thought of dating an ancient Greek deity alone was ludicrous but Quentin was not convinced and urged her to give it a shot. He thought his best friend could use the fun. Heck, her love life was even more non-existent than his own. He could at least live vicariously through hers.

“Q, are we headed anywhere in particular?” she exclaimed thoroughly exasperated.

He didn’t need to answer. With a wide smile, he pointed to something in front of them and she turned to look. They had reached a clearing. A tiny, wooden hut with a straw roof stood further away, surrounded by tall wild grass. The hut and the small, geometric garden patches seemed completely unkempt. Untouched for over a century even.

And then she noticed something else: A perfectly square space in front of the hut, framed by hundreds of small, colorful tiles stacked around the edges.

Quentin knelt in front of it and picked up some broken tiles. “This place has seen better days,” he explained, still examining the tiles.

“What is this place?” Julia asked spinning from left to right, looking for anything familiar that would help make sense of Quentin’s pained face. 

“A dump. Which is why I wanted to come here and fix it up a bit. So, are you up for it?”

He rose on his feet, tossing the tiles away. Julia was still at a loss but looking into her friend's eyes, she knew what she had to do. Pulling up her sleeves, she nodded.

“Alright, where do we start?”

They spent most of the day cleaning the garden, repairing the hut and trashing any garbage and old debris. Magic helped a bunch with most of it. Julia was thoroughly enjoying herself and Quentin also seemed in a similar trance, sweeping, folding old clothes and digging out weeds. But regardless of the fun they were having playing ‘Extreme Makeover: Hut Edition’ she had numerous burning questions hanging at the tip of her tongue.

By sunset, everything seemed perfectly in place. Quentin looked around, marveling at the before and after difference. “Almost perfect.” he murmured to no-one in particular.

Julia rolled her eyes. “What? What more is there for us to do?” She rested her hands on her waist. She was too tired to humor her friend’s perfectionism.

But Quentin was certainly not done. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back to the square garden patch. Quentin had covered most of it with colorful tiles, leaving a small square in the middle bare.

“Here’s why I really wanted you here,” he said and took something out of his pockets.

He gestured at her hands and she put them in front of her, palms up. Something round dropped on them moments later and she raised it closer to her face to take a better look. It was something very similar to a fruit pit, with one side smooth and one full of ridges.

“Uh, what should I do with this?”

“Do your thing, make it grow. There.” He pointed at the bare square.

“And then we can take a break, right?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

He laughed. “Yes. Scout’s honor.”

Without wasting another precious moment she knelt to the ground, pushing the weird, mutant seed deep into the ground. Concentrating, she closed her eyes and felt some of her old, familiar magic flowing through her and towards the earth.

Crackle.

She stepped back and stood next to Quentin. They stood a few steps away, watching at two green stems grow and twirl towards each other. In a few seconds, a tall tree stood before them. A thick, spiral trunk supported what seemed to be two different types of foliage and fruit. A peach and a plum tree fused together.

Quentin smiled. And it was a smile from the heart.


	4. In wine, there's truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia and Q drink some questionable wine and Quentin has 'THE TALK' with his best friend.

“Quentin, this is not wine!” Julia exclaimed, downing some of the weird, bile-looking drink Quentin had handed her.

He tsked and gladly took the bottle from her “If you wanna be technical about it, it’s hooch.”

“What, like, moonshine? Q, where the hell did you get this?!” she shrieked, still trying to figure out the odd aftertaste.

“A neighbour.” He gulped down a generous amount. “He makes the best hooch around here. I hear it’s even popular with local Gods.”

Julia shook her head. “Not with this one.”

“Apologies, my Lady. I didn't mean to insult your refined taste.”

They were still in Fillory, enjoying a well-deserved break. As promised, Quentin had offered his friend the full Fillorian experience: He set an old quilt under the mutant tree for them to sit on, also placing some pillows around it, purely for the sake of aesthetics. Various small, scentless candles lit the space around them as they lay there enjoying the magical atmosphere of the night. And the hooch.

Julia sneaked a look at her friend as he was drinking more of that abomination of a drink. It was time. She couldn’t take it any longer. She wanted to know what was going on. Julia wasn’t a fool and she was certainly not oblivious to Quentings feelings. 

Or so she wanted to believe anyway. Quentin was running away; From his guilt, his feelings, Eliot. She knew all that and yet, when Quentin had asked her to escort him to Fillory for some R’n’R, she helped him do it. A good choice, she decided looking at him at that moment. At least out there in Fillory he seemed half-alive instead of half-dead.

But there was more to the story. And she was about to find out what.

“You seem...familiar with the area, Q. Have you been here before?”

Quentin gave her an amused look that could roughly translate into a “Have I ever…” but those were not the words he chose to speak.

“Yes and no? Frankly, I’m surprised the place actually exist.”

Julia didn’t push for details, only stared intently at him hoping that he would elaborate. He turned to look at her. And then, after a long pause he continued.

“There are some things I,uh, have failed to mention or talk to you about, Jules,” he admitted. He felt blood rising to his face but was uncertain about the reason. Maybe it was the hooch. Maybe the embarrassment. But he was finally ready to tell her everything.

“So,” he continued, “I have been here before. In an alternate timeline.” He put the bottle down on the colorful mosaic and waved his arms in circles, gesturing to everything around them. “Jules, I spent fifty years here. Half a century! I made friends, had a family, I grew old, so old...” 

And there it was. The dam had been opened. All the feelings about Eliot and the life they spent together in that tiny little hut flowed violently through him and out his eyes in the form of warm tears. Normally he would be curled up at this point, holding himself tight trying to trap the tsunami inside. But not this time. He wanted it out. He needed it out. So he continued to cry and talk between short, sobbing breaths.

“I spent a lifetime here because of a quest. And I did it with Eliot by my side.”

Julia was sitting upright now, uncertain of what to do. Should she console him? Wipe his tears and hold him for dear life till the end of time? No, she had to let him vent. She swallowed down the knot in her throat and just watched as he continued to break down.

Quentin sat up as well, supporting his weight on his arms. He took one and wiped his face with a dirty pajama sleeve. “I, I didn’t expect any of that to ever happen, you know?” he explained with a trembling voice “But it did. Fifty years went by and in the blink of an eye it was gone. Forgotten. Well, not quite forgotten, I guess.” How could he forget really? He could deny his feeling for Eliot over and over again --and he did while he was around others-- but he could never forget. Those blissful memories, the touches, the kisses, the long nights and days spent there were burned into his brain. Forever.

“You...loved him.” Julia reached for his hand. Her palms were shaky and sweaty but he welcomed the touch.

Loved. Quentin laughed bitterly. As if. He felt almost insulted by the insinuation his feelings were a thing from the past, something that had just disappeared along with the alternate timeline of the quest.

“Jules, ‘love’ is an understatement. I couldn’t possibly describe to you with words what I feel about him. I guess,” he laughed again, “you could say it is the beauty of all life.”

He wiped his face again. He was done with the tears. He didn’t wanna be the tragic heroine of this episode of ‘Fillory and Further’ any more. “I know I’m not making much sense, Jules…”

“Please, Quentin. I’m your best friend and I’ve known you for all our lifetime. I’m not stupid. I knew you had feelings for Eliot, I just...I just didn’t know it was so much more than that,” she noted. She couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Hurt by her friend who did not trust her enough to share any of those feelings with her.

“Does he know? How you feel about him?”

With a flick of his fingers, a peach from the tree landed carefully in his hand. He turned it around in his palm and then took a small bite. Sweet. Too sweet.

“When we came back and remembered everything, I…” He wasn’t sure what to say next. He took another bite of the sweet fruit and thought some more. “I told him we should give it a shot. That we worked. I wanted to be with him. But he didn’t feel the same. I outdid myself, Jules. My cards were all on the table and he blew me off.”

Bullshit. Julia was not believing any of that. But Quentin’s eyes said otherwise.

“We said some other stuff afterwards. I wasn’t really paying attention so I don’t remember much of that. But it wasn’t pretty. And then, he got possessed.”

“Oh, Q…”

He kept talking. His friend would have to wait her turn.

“Every day spent with th-that thing, that monster was torture. Having Eliot but not having him at all. When Alice came back to save me, I was almost done. I had almost made peace with the fact that Eliot was gone and that I had to kill a monster wearing his face. But then, when he broke through for those few seconds back at that park...When he said-”

“Peaches and Plums,” Julia interrupted, looking up at the tree above them. The puzzle was now complete.

“Yeah, when he said that I knew he was alive. And that was killing me all over again. Call it guilt for giving up on him or fear of facing my feelings for him but either way I felt like shit. Complete and utter shit, Julia.” He grabbed the bottle next to him and drank more. “But his eyes were the worst part.”

“His eyes?”

“They were sad but with a strange warmth inside them. It felt as if…” He shook his head, one last try to deny the possibility before actually putting it into words. “As if he was trying to tell me he loved me back.”

“Maybe that’s precisely what he was trying to say, Q,” she said casually, as if it was almost ridiculously obvious. “He could have said anything. He could have screamed for you to help him ‘cause he was alive. Anything. But within those precious seconds he chose to speak directly to your heart. I think that means something. Don’t you?” 

She leaned towards him and grabbed a peach for herself. _Sweet._

“Maybe,” Quentin mused.

“So now what?” she asked between bites.

“I spend some time here, sit back and calm my brain a bit.”

“Is that even a possibility for you Q?”

It was a comment worthy of an eye roll. “Maybe,” he repeated.

“Why don’t you, oh I don’t know, go talk to Eliot?

“No, too soon.”

“Too soon?! Q-”

“Not yet, okay. I’m not ready. I need some time away. From him and everything.”

“Is that why you chose this place? That’s not really running away, Q. That’s the emotional equivalent of running into a wall with a concussion.”

Regardless of her harsh words, she actually understood. This was his home. Their home. He felt safe and at peace out here.

And Quentin knew she was finally getting it. He gave her a smile and held her hand tighter. The small gesture was all she needed to understand his final thoughts before he passed out:

_I will be fine, Jules. I’ll figure this out. Thank you for everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, friendship.


	5. Be there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margo invites everyone to a party and Eliot is eager for a certain reunion.

Another quiet morning in Fillory. That day marked Quentin’s fifth week living in the hut. Julia had left the day after he had brought her there for some ‘God business’. And he hadn’t tried to stop her. He wanted the time alone but five weeks? How had he let five weeks fly by so easily? All he really did out there was eat, wallow in self-pity, do chores and sleep. Like camping but for the brokenhearted. None of his friends had tried to contact him while he was there and he was thankful for that.

But a part of him knew that it was time to go back. Was he completely ready to? Nope. Did he think that if he didn’t, the urge to just stay put there and rot would increase? Yes.

He sat outside at his new table bench for breakfast. Trading peaches, plums and vegetables he now grew in his garden, he was able to score some pretty good food from his various neighbours. Bread, butter, all sorts of different meats and of course, booze. Life was good in Fillory. 

Taking a big bite out of his breakfast sandwich, he looked at the tree next to him. He was still amazed by how the pit fusing magic had worked. Magic itself was bizarre but he never knew fruit gene-splicing was something we would ever have attempted for fun. He shook his head playfully at the thought. 

As he was about to take another bite, a white, long-eared rabbit landed on the table in front of his plate. 

“Party at Whitespire!” a raspy voice said, coming from the rabbit.

Seconds later, another one, brown this time, landed next to the white rabbit.

“Be there, motherfuckers!” the second one said.

Bulk rabbit mail, thought Quentin.

He sighed. “A party?”

……………………….

“A party, your Highness?”

Margo, sitting on her throne, could see Tick Pickwick sweating. “Tick, calm your tits, please. Everything has already been taken care of. You just have to decorate a bit.”

“I assure you, your Graciousness, flowers and ribbons are not what I am worried about.” he explained with a nervous smile on his lips.

“Then what is it?” 

“If I may, you have been postponing your meeting with Prince Ess of Loria for weeks. And it is my understanding that he and his family are getting...impatient, my King.”

“Hah. And I will keep postponing the meeting if they keep that attitude up,” she declared, uninterested. “How dare they pull that with me, after everything that we did for them. The bastards.”

Tick knew her enough not to press. He wanted his head to remain on his shoulders for a while longer. 

“Now that we cleared that up, off you go! We need everything to be ready by sundown!”

She clapped her hands a couple of times, sending Tick and all kinds of servants in a frenzy.

With everyone gone, she sunk into her throne and rubbed a thumb over her right temple and brow bone. Her fairy eye had been giving her headaches for the best part of a week. Headaches that she mysteriously couldn’t cure with magic. One more reason for her to be annoyed everyday. Which is why a party with friends was exactly what she felt she needed. The High King couldn’t even remember the last time they all got to hang out, drink, dance and not have to worry about their world ending. They all needed this. And with Eliot fully recovered, it was time.

Eliot could probably use a party himself. It had been weeks since she last visited him. Thanks to magic being reset so many times, the ‘time difference’ between Earth and Fillory has changed for the better. Now, a week in Fillory was about a day on Earth so, not too bad. And as such, she had managed to find some time to visit while he was recovering. But it was never enough.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Josh, Royal headshef and Margo’s Royal boyfriend waltzed into the throne room. He gave her a deep bow and approached the throne.

“Not trying to be a bitchy girlfriend but are you done with the preparations?”

Josh smiled at her kindly and stepped closer. He bent for a kiss on her head and then took her by the hand to help her up. “Yes, my King. Everything is ready for tonight.”

“Great,” she breathed out relieved. “Thank you.”

“Oh, and speaking of Penny...He was here a while ago. Told me Kady and possibly Alice won’t be attending.”

Margo wasn’t surprised. After the whole mess with the library, both Alice and Kady had spent a lot of time keeping the peace. Between Hedges and angry Librarians they had their hands full most days.

“You know, I don’t get shocked very often but seeing those two working together does it to me every time.” 

“Never say never, my King. I bet I could shock you if I ever wanted to,” he said, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Riiight.”

“No, I mean it. I really could,” he insisted.

“Babe, the only shocking thing you could ever do is stay sober for a day.”

She gave him a kiss. Thinking about it, just being with him was shocking. Not to mention the werewolf thing. At least, that gave her a valid excuse for not accepting marriage proposals from other Kingdoms. Either way, she liked him, he liked her and that was all she needed.

What she definitely did not need was Eliot walking in on them. Which is exactly what had just happened. Eliot, her best friend who knew nothing about her relationship, had just walked in on them.

Margo almost pushed Josh away, flustered. “E-El, what are you doing here?”

He has standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide enough to pop. Aside from his...shocked face he looked good. He was wearing a white pressed shirt with a purple, floral vest over it and pants a darker shade of plum. His face was freshly shaven and he had let his long curls down.

“Interrupting, apparently?” It sounded as a question but it was just pure shock.

“Hey, man! You look great!” Josh told him, trying to avoid the obvious awkward looks between them. He didn’t know how much Eliot knew about them so he definitely didn’t want to add to the matter.

But Eliot wasn’t fooled. “Okay listen, I don’t know what is happening here--since someone kept me in the dark--but I call dibs on the best man position.” He gave them a crooked smile and his sincerity startled them.

Both shook their heads in protest to the comment. Margo looked at him and Eliot quickly recognised the guilt. She felt guilty, this time for not telling him about Josh. But Eliot couldn’t complain since that would make him an absolute hypocrite. He, too hadn’t told his best friend anything about Quentin. The guy he loved and had rejected.

He finally gave her a hug. “I know I’m early but I was getting bored. Penny 23 is cool but not much of a conversationalist.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you’re here, El.”

They pulled away from each other, still holding hands.

“Okay,” Josh spoke, breaking the long silence, “I’m so not jealous right now so I’m gonna head back to the kitchen.” He gave a shoulder pat to Eliot. “I’ll see ya later.”

With Josh gone Eliot let a laugh out. He had been holding it in. “Fuck, Bambi, he’s a keeper.”

Margo gave him a playful push as he kept laughing. “He’s a great cook. And the sex is great. So yes, he is.”

“Wow, I lived to see Margo Hanson in a committed relationship. Now that, is crazy.”

“Joke all you want but I’ll be the one having the last laugh when this happens to you.”

Eliot stopped laughing. A deep frown distorted his features as he considered her words. Unbeknownst to her, he had been in a serious committed relationship. A fifty-year-long relationship he had foolishly crushed due to fear. A relationship he was hoping was still salvageable.

“Honest to God Margo, I hope you get that laugh.”

Margo was confused by his face and his emotionally ridden words. She decided, however, to ignore it and gave him another smile. “Planning on doing anything crazy, El?”

Eliot gave her an indifferent shrug. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Me having the balls or not,” he explained with another shrug.

Margo mimicked him, not sure what to say. “Do I wanna know?”

“I’ll...let you know how it goes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan was for this chapter to have the queliot reunion but my heart couldn't take it.  
> Chapter 6 will be the one.  
> Thanks for reading♥


	6. What the heart wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin has a wardrobe malfunction and Eliot is there to help.
> 
> (This was too emotional for me...)

Be brave. It’s not a big deal. You can do this. Be brave.

Quentin was regretting every step he took towards Castle Whitespire.

_Be brave. It’s not a big deal. You can do this. Be brave._

Chanting his new life mantra over and over again he made his way to the party, leaving the comfort of his hut behind. He was there. No turning back for him. Time to face the music. Figuratively and literally. Soul-soothing instrumentals filled the castle’s halls. Not exactly what he expected for a Margo party playlist. As the music grew louder and louder he started seeing people around, some he’d seen before, some complete strangers. Social anxiety levels were off the charts. 

Reaching the throne room he frantically looked around, searching for any of his friends. No such luck. His eyes admired the lustrous decor: Flowers hanging from the ceiling, gold and silver plates and cutlery on silk tablecloths and to top it all off, flickering animated lights. Looking down at his clothes, an old, cream, linen set, he felt extremely underdressed. 

Not a big deal, he reminded himself. He needed to stay as sane as possible tonight, at least for a while. Social anxiety be damned.

“Quentin Coldwater!” A stunning but very angry Margo stomped her way to him, dragging the train of her sparkly, midnight-blue gown.

“Hey-”

He didn’t have time to react. Margo’s palm made contact with his left cheek. Hard. She had just slapped him across the face. In front of everyone, of course.

Quentin, stunned, touched his now sore cheek. “Margo, what the fuck!”

“That, was for disappearing without a word!” she whispered, as if people weren’t already looking at them.

“I told Penny-”

“ _Not. The. Point._ ” she almost spelled out every word behind gritting teeth. “And what in the Worlds are you wearing? A potato sack?”

He tugged at the fabric, embarrassed. “That’s...all I had. I was not aware there was a dress code.” A foolish statement. When Margo was involved, there was always a dress code.

“Yeah, you should go change. No way I’m letting you walk around in that vomit garb.”

“Change into what? Margo-”

She cut him off again. Okay, point taken. He knew he looked terrible anyway.

“You have some more...appropriate clothes back at your chambers, right?”

“Oh, yeah. The weird, itchy King suits,” he exclaimed not particularly excited.

“Yeah, cool. Go. Now.” 

She pushed him away and he stumbled his way back to his old room in the castle. He hadn’t spent that much time in the castle, always running around for quests and niffin hunting, but he was familiar with this room. Everything seemed tidied up and clean, a far cry from what his room would normally look like. He made way to his closet. It was filled to the brim with shirts, dress pants, jackets, coats and shoes appropriate for every royal shenanigan possible. All custom made and Margo’s doing. Most of it he hadn’t even worn. Rummaging through the expensive fabrics, he picked out a beige, drapey shirt, a pair of regular khaki dress pants, a belt and matching brown shoes. No itchy vests and jackets for him.

Picking them out was one thing, putting them on another. After putting on the pants and the shirt, he moved on to the belt. Which was an impossible task. The pants were too big so going without a belt would be a bad idea but he was struggling to loop it through. Either the belt loops were too small or the belt too big. He unbuttoned his shirt, in an effort to make himself a bit more comfortable while twisting and yanking the belt.

“Stupid belt. Stupid, stupid belt!” He jerked the belt out of the loops and threw it onto the bed.

“Need help with that?”

“No, I-”

Fuck. No. That voice.

Turning around, hands on his zipper, he saw him. Eliot. He stood there, looking like a dream. His gaze almost mirrored Quentin’s bewilderment. It was filled with questions, so many questions, as his eyes were traveling up and down Quentin’s half-dressed body, taking every single detail in. 

Eliot took another step towards the frozen Quentin and casually tugged on his waistband, buttoning his pants. The sudden closeness startled Quentin. They were just a breath away but ironically neither of them was breathing.

“You used to do that for me, remember?” Eliot finally said and Quentin knew exactly what he was talking about. Back when Eliot was too old and too weak to dress himself everyday, Quentin would help him put on his clothes and bathe. It was like Eliot was returning the favor in a weird and very awkward way.

“El…”

Quentin was burning. A restless yearning for Eliot was stirring all sorts of emotions inside him. There were no words he could say, no move he could make to express that. Biting his lip, he averted his eyes from him, still not moving away.  
But Eliot did. He moved back enough to make the distance more comfortable for the both of them.

“Q, you’ve been avoiding me for over a month,” Eliot noted bitterly.

Quentin was considering correcting him, telling him it had been less than an Earth week but it was obviously not what Eliot wanted to hear.

“I-I, no, umm, wh-who, uh-” is what came out of his mouth in the end.

“Okay, I speak ‘Quentin’ but this was too much even for you, Q,” he pointed out amused. “I just-” A small, dragged pause. “I just really needed to see you. And talk to you.”

Quentin was out of breath once more as he turned to look at Eliot. The room was suddenly spinning around them. The electrifying tension between them slowly enveloped them until it was too much for them to handle. And Eliot was done waiting for the right words to come to him. With a swift move, his hand was on Quentin’s cheek and without any warning, Eliot’s lips crashed onto his.

The kiss was rough. Neither Eliot nor Quentin were holding back. All the unspoken words and feelings between them were driving them closer and closer, almost fusing their bodies in a hungry kiss. Eliot’s hand slipped back to Quentin’s neck, fingers gently tugging on his hair. Quentin answered him with hands traveling up his torso, stopping at his shirt collar. His grip on it increased, bringing them closer, their bodies now pressing against one another. Short, breathy moans of pleasure escaped their mouths uncontrollably every time they parted their lips.

But again, Eliot stopped and took a step back from the panting Quentin. His own body was aching, hating him for breaking the contact. But he had to stop. He had to tell him.

Quentin had no energy left in him. His knees were about to give and the post-kiss dizziness was not helping him remain standing. But somehow, he did.

“Q, you know I’m not good with words and stuff so listen carefully. I don’t think I can repeat what I’m about to say.”

Despite the passionate kiss they had just shared, a strong sense of dread came over Quentin. But seeing Eliot at that moment, trying to muster all the courage in the world just to speak a few words, dispelled any shrivel of dejection.

“You would think that spending so much time inside my own mind, I would have found the right words for what I’m about to say. But I couldn’t find them. And not for a lack of trying, Q. So, here’s what I have for you.”

Quentin gave up. He sat on the edge of the bed, desperately hoping he wouldn’t pass out. He nodded towards Eliot, encouraging him to continue.

“Back when I was possessed by the monster, I was desperate. I had to find a way to talk to you guys, to let you know I was still alive. Unfortunately, in order to find that door--the door that would let me escape from its control momentarily--I had to take a trip down memory lane. More specifically, I had to re-visit all the memories of all the shit I’d ever done. Shit that hurt and shit that I regretted the most. So, I did what any logical person would do in my position: I made a list.”

“A list?” Quentin asked incredulously.

“Yeah. And between, murder, betraying friends and even bad sex experiences, I still couldn’t find the door. There was still something I hadn’t considered. And then it just dawned on me that my list was incomplete. And that the moment I regretted the most, the moment that I had been the most scared in my whole life, was when...I rejected you.”

“Eliot, what-”

Eliot dropped down on his knees until their eyes were at level, putting a finger on Quentin’s lips to silence him. Quentin reluctantly complied.

“When I finally got to that memory, I watched as you opened your heart to me again, telling me we worked. And then I had to watch my past self crush that, denying everything both you and I felt. And so I turned to myself and lectured him for being a stupid bitch and then apologized to you-”

“For being a stupid bitch?” Quentin said, half-jokingly.

Eliot bit his lip, but didn’t let the guilt get to him before he was done talking. “Exactly. Next thing I knew, I was walking through a door and suddenly I was looking at you. The real you.”

Eliot didn’t feel like explaining to him how he could conjure memory versions of his friends while in his mind and Quentin didn’t question him about that either. He was remembering the day at the park, when Monster-Eliot was walking towards him, Julia and her follower, Shoshana, in tow. He and Alice had almost killed him that day. If he had reacted even a second later, Eliot would have been lost forever. He shook his head to the unpleasant thought, turning his attention back to Eliot.

He was still kneeling in front of him as he took Quentin’s hands into his. “For fuck sake, all I’m trying to say with all of this, Q, is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being afraid to be loved. I’m sorry I lied to you. And, I love you. Forgive me,” Eliot concluded with fresh tears trickling down his face.

A million apologies were written in Eliot’s eyes. But Quentin focused on three words: I love you. Eliot Waugh loved him. He was there, holding his hands and he loved him.

Without a second thought, he pulled him up and over to his bed. Looking at Eliot laying above him, one last thought crossed his mind before he pulled him down for another kiss: I want this. I want him. Always.

With a flick of the wrist, the room’s door was locked and as the party outside raged, another one began between layers of formal clothes and bed sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally did it. I wrote this. It was really, really hard. Just like Quentin and Eliot, I just couldn't find the right words. But I did it and I hope you liked it!  
> Thank you so much for reading and let me know what you thought.  
> I'll be writing some more fics soon.  
> Also you can find me on Tumblr (tiamaleficaart)


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